Direct reading · Original
Section 318
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Eno.
Her Gentlewoman, like the Nereides,
So many Mer‑maides tended her i'th'eyes,
And made their bends adornings. At the Helme.
A seeming Mer‑maide steeres: The Silken Tackle,
Swell with the touches of those Flower‑soft hands,
That yarely frame the office. From the Barge
A strange inuisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adiacent Wharfes. The Citty cast
Her people out vpon her: and Anthony
Enthron'd i'th'Market‑place, did sit alone,
Whisling to'th'ayre: which but for vacancie,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopater too,
And made a gap in Nature.